


Caught in the moment

by soyane



Series: I spy with my little eye... [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, M/M, Riding, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soyane/pseuds/soyane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's six months after Zayn screwed up a big time and he's desperate to redeem himself.</p><p>Agent Mick may, or may not break his resolve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught in the moment

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a sequel to Catch me if you can. It would make more sense if read as such :)

_

 

Six months passed and Zayn was still fucked.

 

His partner agents and boss were mad at him beyond belief – never before had they been this close to catching any spy from the counter-agency. The only good thing that came out of Zayn’s work that night was that he managed to take some good quality shots of agent Mick, which helped them to assess his height and general body-built. It was really useful, but it didn’t wipe out the fact that they could have caught him and have him questioned and most likely force him to spill classified information.

 

Zayn still winced when he thought about that.

 

He had been degraded to stay at the headquarters since, while the others started the operation all over again. He didn’t even fight his boss over that – he was painfully aware that he screwed up a big time. It was also really good for him at the beginning, since that way other agents couldn’t take out their frustrations on him.

 

But months were passing and he was getting restless and snappy. And to make the matters worse, the only assignments he was getting apart from hacking some websites and accounts, were rookie jobs, like seducing some wealthy ladies to get them to talk about their business associates.

 

And well, it did get him outside of the headquarters and into some kind of action _fucking finally_ but it came too easy to him, what with his good looks and all that, and he really loved a challenge.

 

Like agent Mick, for instance.

 

Really good challenge.

 

Throughout those six months Zayn had a lot of time to think about The Night of His Doom, as he started calling it in his mind and he had sworn to himself that given the opportunity he would do everything in his power to catch him and bring him in and question him successfully. He would never again let his, uh, _attraction_ of a kind, ruin the mission.

 

That is, _if_ he was allowed on the mission again.

 

He groaned and put his head heavily on his crossed arms. His eyes were killing him and he was sure another hour spent on cracking the codes would lead to his terribly painful death _of boredom_.

 

“Malik!” A voice behind him roared, making him sit up straight at once and he almost fell of the chair in the process.

 

“Yessir!” He exclaimed a bit too loudly and turned to face his superior – a picture of eagerness, really. The man just measured him with a judging glare. He was silent for a few moments, just looking at Zayn, as if he was speculating about something in his mind.

 

“I’ve got an assignment for you,” he finally uttered and crossed his arms behind his back. Zayn had huge trouble keeping a grin from emerging on his face. His boss didn’t like it when their emotions were written all over their faces, always nagged about the importance of keeping their feelings to themselves. “You’re going to sneak in on a cruise ship going from Marseille to Miramas. We’ve gained intelligence suggesting that some people we’ve been interested in lately will be travelling on this ship,” he paused and his face seemed even more stern than usual.

 

Zayn almost squealed in excitement like a schoolboy. “Do I create my own cover or is one of the teams on this task already?” He asked when his superior stayed silent for a few minutes straight.

 

“A team is already working on it. You’ll join them asap.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Good. You’re leaving in two days, I hope you’ll manage to get yourself ready.” Meaning: you have to, as there’s no other option.

 

“By no means.” His boss turned to leave, his hands back in the pockets of his dress trousers, confidence oozing from his every particle. Zayn had the ability of appearing this confident to other people, but it was only second face he could put on with the clothes he used for assignments.

 

“And Malik?” His boss’ voice reached him stopping his musings. He shot his eyes up, meeting his steady gaze.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m trusting you on this. Don’t let me down.”

 

Zayn nodded fiercely, swearing to himself that nothing, absolutely nothing, could make him screw up again.

 

Not even agent Mick.

 

***

 

Being a waiter at a cruise ship turned out to be boring to the point where Zayn was glad whenever someone wandered over to order some drinks. He was now polishing the same glass for the fifth time in a row, looking around to try to catch anything worthy of noting or indicative of any kind of criminal activity he was alerted to by his team. Until now, to no avail.

 

He sighed heavily and pondered if pouring himself a pinacolada would be awfully inappropriate and unethical. The weather was perfect for a cruise – sunny and just on the verge of hot, so Zayn figured alcohol was not the best way to go about dealing with boredom and decided against it, sagging against the counter and returning to his previous activity of people-watching.

 

There was a couple on the dock that caught his attention after a minute or so due to their frivolous antics – there were two men, they were lounging on the deck-chairs and sipping mimosas. It was clear from their body language that the nature of their relationship was physical, despite the wedding band shining brightly in the noon’s sun on the older man’s hand. Zayn sat on a stool after moving it into the shadow, so that he wasn’t in plain sight and continued to watch the scene in front of his eyes unfold. _Yep, definitely sleeping with each other_ , he thought, mainly because they seemed to be teasing and arguing, which at the same time looked like a foreplay, considering how the older of them couldn’t keep his hands off of the incredibly fit guy he was with. The guy seemed also very comfortable with his body, lounging about in just a pair of really tiny neon-blue shorts. Zayn certainly didn’t resent the view.

 

The older of the two turned in Zayn’s direction and took off his sunglasses – and well, if it wasn’t Ben Winston, the heir to the Winston Industries, himself! Zayn smirked slightly – if Ben was here, it was sure that this cruise was as much for business as it was for pleasure, at least for some of the passengers. His day just got considerably better, he thought to himself satisfied. The things he had to be on the watch out for were clearer to him now that he knew Winston was there. He felt a thrill of excitement run down his back – this was his chance to prove and redeem himself – he loved this job and he definitely wanted to show his bosses that he was on top of the game, again.

 

He sat more comfortably, the scene before his eyes even more interesting to him now. The younger man was definitely tipsy – the way he nuzzled Ben’s neck and was touching him all over was more than enough to indicate it. Well, if Zayn didn’t know any better, he would have surely taken them for a couple, maybe of the sugardaddy arrangement, but a couple nonetheless.

He had no idea that his blatant staring was noticed despite his quite discreet localisation by Ben’s companion with how his eyes kept on slipping down his shapely legs, so it surprised him when he saw him heading his way, now donning a shirt that clashed with his shorts so much it bordered on being hipster. Zayn got up from the stool swiftly, slipping into barman slash undercover agent role within seconds. As he was getting closer, the wheels in Zayn’s head were reeling faster as the recognition dawned on him – he looked very similar to the infamous agent Mick! He schooled his features into an expression of bored nonchalance and waited until the man sat behind the bar with a sigh and a toss of his quite fabulous hair.

 

“Lover giving you a hard time?” He asked wryly, pouring Possibly Agent Mick a drink. The man chuckled, startled, and lit a cigarette (where did it come from??), then exhaled the smoke slowly, his lips curving around it sensuously. Zayn drooled mentally.

 

“You could say that,” he drawled, his voice deliciously low and raspy, before taking a long sip from his glass. Zayn wondered if his voice always sounded like this, or if it was caused by certain sexual activities. He frowned at himself and started polishing the glass again, annoyed at his mind for even attempting to go this route, which the one leading straight to hell. Or something like this.

 

“Oh?” He said instead and quirked an eyebrow at him, not lifting his gaze from the glass and trying to play it cool.

 

The man leaned over the bar, his arms crossed, which caused his half-open shirt to stretch over his chest and give Zayn a clear sight of his nipples. Gathering he wanted to say something without being overheard, Zayn came closer to him and bent forward, leaning his hips on the bar.

 

“Wants me to do age play with him,” he stage-whispered and did a horrified face. Zayn snorted lightly.

 

“You not into that, then?”

 

Mick, as Zayn called him in his head, smirked and offered him a cigarette. Zayn accepted it and let Mick lit it for him.

 

“Not particularly,” he answered eventually and shrugged. “I like calling him ‘daddy’, you know, keep things interesting…” he trailed off and inhaled the smoke again, and rolled his shoulders – Zayn’s eyes followed the movement closely. He could feel his cheeks burning and was even more glad for the cigarette now, because it kept his hands busy. Jesus, how he could say things like that so lightly…

 

When he looked up, Mick was smiling at him knowingly. “Harry,” he introduced himself and held out his right hand.

 

“Zack,” Zayn replied shaking it shortly. Harry nodded.

 

“You could drop by my room later, if you’re not too busy,” he commented off-handedly, though the implication was as clear as sky on a sunny day. He winked and left, swaying his hips as he went back to the man he was with and leaving Zayn a bit stunned.

 

He was completely confused. He thought the man to be agent Mick, but the way he behaved was too careless and reckless for a spy, even, or especially, while on vacation. Inviting strange man into your room? It was a definite no-no, one of the top rules the agency had taught him.

 

On the other hand, his body-built, height and hair seemed matching compared to what they had managed to gather from the hotel’s security footage (and what had ingrained itself behind Zayn’s eyelids forever, but shhh about that).

 

Zayn was torn between contacting people at his agency, or at least alerting his team and see if they could confirm his identity, and proving himself, finding out on his own and going back to the field duty.

 

One more look at Mick’s retreating form assured him of what he was going to do.

 

He rationalized his decision later with not wanting to let down his team again, if his suspicions turned out to be just a false alarm.

 

It was the logical thing to do, right?

 

***

 

By the time the sun set, Zayn had learned quite a bit about what was planned to happen during the cruise. He wasn’t entirely convinced that it was going to be of any use to his agency, but he wasn’t going to overlook anything just because he had some feeling or other. He had easily got his name on the schedule for the evening party, as the other waiters weren’t too keen on spending their evening and part of the night this way. Mingling in with the crowd was childlike easy – as a waiter, he was close to invisible to the businessmen gathered, whose sight slid over him as if he was a part of the room décor.

 

All the better. He was meandering through the crowd, listening in on the chit-chats, making himself as sly and inconspicuous as possible, his voice-recorder tucked securely in his buttonhole. Some sentences that he managed to catch surely had double meaning, so maybe this trip wouldn’t be fruitless – he feared that for a while.

 

Despite the fact that him being invisible was true, he did feel someone’s eyes on him. He turned around slowly, making it seem as natural as possible, only to come eye to eye with agent Mick, or whoever the man was. He was on the other side of the room, standing beside a wall with a glass of champagne, his hair left loose and reaching his shoulders. When he noticed that Zayn had turned, his mouth quirked up at the side and he raised his glass in toast.

 

Zayn’s heart inexplicably sank for a moment, before beginning to beat twice as quick as it did earlier. He collected himself and smiled tightly back, then turned away and closed his eyes. Why was this man’s presence unnerving him so much? And his eyes! They seemed to fucking bore right through him, straight to his very core!

 

He shook his head and headed towards the bar to fill up his tray, figuring he might do it as well now, that he was so unnerved.

 

Just his luck, huh?

 

***

 

When the party was close to coming to an end, Zayn slipped from the room, his mind set on finding Harry’s room, hoping that the number he got was correct. He reached the said room quickly enough and knocked on the door, intent on staying alert and focused so that he could search for cues confirming or falsifying his theory of Harry being agent Mick. He righted his tie and vest, and Zayn braced himself as the door opened almost immediately revealing Harry standing there only in a skimpy silk bathrobe.

 

Zayn looked down and what a horrible mistake it was – Harry’s long, slender legs were completely uncovered and looking absolutely sinful. He gulped.

 

“You came,” Harry said sultry, popping his hip to the side, one of his hands sliding down the door only to rest at the handle.

 

“Not yet,” Zayn’s mouth moved on his own accord. As soon as the words left his mouth he blushed profusely, while Harry smiled like a cat that got cream. _He probably would_ , was the last coherent of his brain before turning into a mash of arousal and desire.

 

“Come on in,” Harry said and tugged on his sleeve, Zayn following him in like a rag doll. Harry was on him as soon as the door clicked shut, kissing him and running his hands all over his body, licking insistently at the seam of his mouth until Zayn let him in. He was giving back as good as he got, licking and biting, and sucking on Harry’s searching tongue which caused him to shiver and Zayn to feel somewhat proud. He finally got his hands on him, after months of dreaming about it _and_ he was making it good for him, drawing moans and shivers out of him.

 

He turned them, pinning Harry against the wall and sliding his hands under the silk bathrobe and he groaned out loud – Harry was stark naked beneath it. He bent his head and bit at his neck too strong to be considered playful, however Harry still moaned.

 

“Zaaaack,” he whined and arched his neck, as if begging Zayn for more bites and who was he to disagree? He started sucking bruises down the line of his throat, Harry all the while writhing against him and grasping at his hair. When he took both of their cocks in his hand, Harry sagged against him and started pressing wet kisses to his neck.

 

“Zack,” he moaned and shivered right after Zayn flicked his wrist a bit.

 

“Yeah, babe,” he responded, his voice gone all husky from arousal. “You like that?”

 

Harry mewled against his skin. He looked so lovely with the blush spreading across his pale chest giving him an almost innocent look. Zayn wanted to taste him and mark him all over.

 

“Bed?” he murmured against his cheek, irritating the skin there with his stubble.

 

Harry nodded frantically. “God, yes,” he said and led Zayn by the hand farther into the room. Being more than a millimetre away from Harry eased the fog that came over his mind, and Zayn regained a part of his attentiveness, shooting quick looks all over the room. Their walk was too hasty, though, to note anything of significance.

 

“You’re so hot,” Harry breathed and bit at his lip,

 

“You are, too…” he trailed off and stopped beside the bed. Harry helped him to get out of his waiter outfit, unbuttoning his shirt hastily, yet skilfully, and in the meantime snogging the breath out of him. Boy, did he have coordination!

 

Once he was naked, Harry pulled him onto the bed, and reached into the bedside table drawer, taking out lube and condoms and throwing them at Zayn with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Zayn dived in for another kiss, not able to get enough of his plush lips.

 

“Can’t wait for you to fill me up,” Harry murmured sexily, turning them over so that Zayn was on top. Zayn’s hips stuttered at that, accidentally rubbing their dicks together, which left both of them moaning at the touch. He lubed up his fingers in excess before sneaking his hand slowly between Harry’s legs.

 

He pressed the pad of his forefinger lightly at his entrance, feeling his muscles twitch in anticipation. Harry angled his hips and whined, “come oooon!” Zayn laughed at that.

 

“Impatient much?” He asked lowly, pushing the first finger in slowly.

 

“Wanna ride you,” was the answer he got and it was his turn to whine low in his throat. Harry’s slightly angelic looks and absolutely dirty mouth were such a contrast, that it excited him even more.

 

“Shit,” he spit out and quickly added second finger, pushing it faster and scissoring his fingers relentlessly, causing a string of _‘ah, ah ahhhh’_ to fall out of Harry’s mouth. He had just barely slipped third finger in, when Harry started pushing at his hand.

 

“Enough,” he groaned. Zayn only raised one of his eyebrows, not believing Harry to be well-prepared, but moved according to his will, resting his back against the pillows, taking his cock in his hand and stroking himself lightly, teasingly, all the while observing Harry’s movements much like a predator watched its prey.

 

Harry settled himself above his cock, bracing himself on Zayn’s chest, and helping Zayn with the other hand to press the head against his whole, and then all but sat down, taking in half of Zayn’s erection at once. Zayn felt as if breath was knocked out of him and if Harry’s groan was anything to go by, it was a powerful feeling for him as well. He had to admire Harry’s ambition of sorts, when he started moving after taking a few deep breaths, each time sagging lower on his cock, until Zayn was buried in him to the hilt.

 

“ _Harry_ ,” he growled, not recognising his own voice, his fingers digging into his hips. Harry blinked at him, his eyes unfocused, and circled his hips experimentally, as if feeling out Zayn’s cock inside of him. It was such a hot sight Zayn almost came then and there.

 

Harry was quick to gather himself, and started to _bounce_ on his dick, making hottest little sounds and dragging his nails down Zayn’s chest. It was too much, Zayn felt he was going to come any second now, so he took Harry’s erection in his hand and started wanking him off, trying to time his hand-movements with Harry’s pace. Soon, he was coming, the droplets of come all over Zayn’s chest, but he didn’t stop the _up-and-down_ of his hips, biting his lip hard in concentration, until Zayn came, too. Only then did he stop moving, falling on Zayn spent and exhausted too much to care about the stickiness between them.

 

***

 

Zayn woke up feeling on the top of the world. Well, anyone would after a few rounds of sex this great. He smiled contentedly before trying and failing to use his hands to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He frowned and tried to move them once again, to no avail.

 

He opened his eyes and looked around: his hands were tied to the headboard with what was most possibly a scarf of some sort, but skilfully enough that he wasn’t able to get himself out of the knot.

 

He tried kicking his legs, going for force as his mind raced in panic, but again nothing happened. He heard footsteps and looked to the doorway, where Harry appeared. He was all dressed and ready to go with a bag in his hand. A sinking feeling settled low in Zayn’s stomach.

 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Harry said and smiled wryly. “How did you sleep, _Zack_?”

 

He was in trouble. In big, big trouble.

 

“Harry,” he started. “Would you be so kind and untie me?” He asked without any hope of that happening.

 

Harry frowned, seeming genuinely worried about this. “I don’t think so,” he answered and sighed heavily.

 

“Harry – ” he tried again, his temper getting the better of him.

 

“Look,” Harry interrupted him, tying a scarf in his hair. “The crew will release you in a while, so it’s not a big deal,” he shrugged and turned away, making his way out.

 

“Oh, and before I leave – one word of advice for you,” he stopped in the doorway. “Ben is just a pawn. Don’t waste your time on him, babe, he knows nothing of use to either of us.”

 

Zayn felt as if his tongue stuck in his throat. That meant that his cover was blown. There was nothing worse that could have happened to him. Harry watched attentively as this realisation hit him. He smirked.

 

“See you,” he winked and with that he was out of the room, shutting the door behind himself and leaving Zayn naked but for a blanket thrown over his bits and tied up to the headboard.

 

Zayn groaned as his head hit the bed frame.

 

He was so fucked.

 

Again.

 

_

 


End file.
